Sealed With a Kiss
by FleurLennon
Summary: After Trenzalore: The Doctor without River and River without the Doctor. Somebody has been tempering with the datacore and this has consequences. "...He shrugged off his jacket and tucked it around her, jumped to his feet and searched for the library via his Tardis console, and what he then read caused great astonishment and distress..."
1. Sealed With a Kiss I

_Hey there. I haven't written anything in ages but the series finale tortured me so that I couldn't help myself in any other way: I ship River and the Doctor - it is beyond sane. Yupp, this takes place after Trenzalore, but during the very same night.  
_

_What you will (hopefully ;-)) read down there is nothing I want Moffat to do, this is just me, trying to cope. Decide for yourself about their future. It is slightly out of character, it is smut, it is a thing and it is rated M for a reason._

_Basically, everything but the plot belongs to the brilliant, maddening minds of the BBC. Have fun!_

_Music suggestions: _

_**Melody Pond** (Murray Gold) / **Clarity, acoustic version** (Zedd feat. foxes) / **Always Find Me Here** (Transit) / _

_**White Blank Page, Awake My Soul** (Mumford and Sons) / **Sealed With a Kiss** (Brian Hyland)  
_

* * *

**Sealed With a Kiss**

He had taken refuge somewhere in the Tardis who had kindly offered him one of the many living rooms. Actually it really didn't matter to him where he was right now, he just didn't want to be found, not in this state. He was shattered, broken, downright broken…anew.

But Clara, his Clara, brave and fantastic as she was, was too exhausted anyway. He was certain she wouldn't wake up for hours and if something happened…well… he couldn't exactly be sure, could he, but he hoped the Tardis would signal him if something was the matter with Clara. It was weird though, to have her over for the night. He was rattled. Tonight's events had worn him out; his whole existence had been rewritten…twice. And he had kissed her, kissed River Song. River Song, who was dead and who he…

Well, he liked kissing, he had kissed a lot of people whenever he was in the right mood since he had regenerated, but kissing had never meant _this_…it only ever had meant _this_ when he had kissed River Song. He had always known that she was going to die, how she was going to die and he hadn't prevented himself from stumbling into her arms, he had just let her grab him and kiss him and whatnot, for God's sake. River Song, his wife, was gone for good. How had she been present at all tonight? No, he knew about that but how had he been able to touch her? Had he really touched her?

It seemed so unreal to him now, sad and unreal. And it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Was he going insane… but Clara had seen her too, had heard her too. He let himself fall onto a brick-red leather sofa, crossed his legs and let his head loll about the backrest; then he suddenly uncrossed his legs just to end up crossing them again. Clara had given everything to save him, oh so many times had she saved him… but had she really? He faced the back of his hands as he tried to face the truth…He owed Clara to be and feel saved, but, oh, he felt he wasn't. Rubbing his eyes he kept thinking about kissing her, about kissing River Song.

His first time, when she had just grabbed him and he had not known what was going on and then her hands had been in his hair and on his shoulder and he hadn't known where to put his own set of things with fingers, had, to be perfectly clear, not known what to do at all and then he had touched her, had then felt the soft bare skin of her arms, had even wanted to slide higher, hadn't dared to – oh the hair, he had wanted to run his fingers through that hair quite badly - had kept wiggling around like crazy and… She had just kept kissing him and he had had a hard time not to lose it. How in the universe was one supposed to react when kissing suddenly seemed to mean _this_? Afterwards he had been severely flabbergasted and had had a hard time fighting off Amy's questions.

'Amy'; he sighed. Amy and Rory, the Ponds, his Ponds…also gone for good, adding to the list of much-loved people he would never see again.

And then he remembered how River had almost killed him with a kiss, only to bring him back to life with another one. He saw her shrugging before his inner eye, laughing it off, giving him her gorgeous smile. Basically that had been what she had done ever since: He had died a little every time and then he had felt more alive than ever before and it had always overwhelmed him…anew. He groaned and threw his head between his hands, grimaced and exhaled. Agony, such agony. Whenever she had laid hands on him she had done it with unbelievable naturalness and yet she never had taken him for granted – it had made him crazy, crazy for her. He had gone from 'how can she dare do that to me' to 'how can she dare not to' in what seemed simply no time to him now.

This woman would have let time itself die instead of giving in, she had been foolish enough to put him above it all at lake Silencio, hadn't she, and hadn't regretted her choices for a single minute, not her. Her eyes had been unwilling and her expression had been tortured and then, after she had understood, they had revived time together, and for them that had meant marriage. Yes, they had got married, Teselecta or not. So many people had sacrificed themselves for him, had taken and still took great risks for him but never like _this_.

No, no that wasn't quite right, his mind was racing. With Rose it had been…and Martha had felt for him in a way he had not…and Clara, now Clara. But never again could it be _this_. Because _this_ meant insanity and it meant for him that he was willing to bear a pain he couldn't because _this_ pain was everything left and it killed him and still he would not have it any other way. He was insane. He was in…

Thinking of the Teselcta, it came back to him all too clearly now. What a vision he had had of her after she had beheld his frame behind the eyes of the robot…He had seen her face from oh so close while she kissed his lookalike, had seen the way she had bat her lashes and the tears she had shed quietly. Long after the kiss broke he would still stand there replaying it in his mind, trying to imagine what he had not been able to see behind the closed lids of the damned Teselecta that had saved his life.

He had been unable to stop his thoughts, had been driven by some urge that had made him want to feel her, feel what he had seen and hadn't seen, feel her mouth on his and anywhere else and finally ruffle that amazing hair, grasp her shoulders, stroke her back, grab her bum, he… He was in the same state now, except she wasn't around and he was missing so much more, aching for so much more. Her voice, he would die just to hear it now. "See you 'round" she had made him say, "don't wait up".

What a foolish idiot he was. He had run away from their goodbye for so long just to… He felt downright odd in his body, his limbs annoyed him, his hearts beat and his eyes hurt and he just couldn't stand being himself right now. He was not ok with this, he was not fine, he felt heartbroken and feelings he had run away from fought their way through and threatened to reduce him to something he just couldn't handle. He ringed to gain back some composure for his own sake.

Believe it or not, he had kissed her again, a long time ago, and he had admitted to himself that it meant _this_, and he had made her his wife in every way he had been able to think of while he could. Or maybe it had been her who had made him her husband; he probably didn't deserve too much credit. She had taught him that it was not only all right to let somebody else, her, touch him like _this_, but also that he was allowed to touch somebody else, her, like _this_ himself. She had taught him how to remorselessly enjoy it and he had tried to forget about what was going to come because it had felt so sweet and so, so good. It had been very physical at times, yet there had always been an understanding of minds, yes, deep understanding, sadness and always bliss, pure utter bliss, involved. He wondered whether he should never have given in, but truth be told, she would have made him anyway – or so he liked to think. Partly because he knew she had liked to think so herself. He had known that it would end, how it would end, had tried to postpone her end… and had failed.

One could only run away for so long.

He had never really had a choice there, and yet he felt the guilt of failure. But much stronger he felt his own personal loss and that was what he hated himself for the most. He sat very still now, looking up, looking at thin air and trying to overcome what seemed to him inexpugnable. He tried to disconnect his mind from his aching body but he knew it was useless and not worth the effort. His mind pained him no less.

Oh, she had made him angry, extraordinarily furious at times, she had been such an unnecessary tease whenever it had pleased her, had stormed off whenever she had wanted to and had made it clear to him more than once that she basically wasn't in need of him in order to lead her life. He had not been used to that, he usually became people's life, didn't he, but with her, even though during the good times she used to tell him he was, he actually had never, yet always, been. He needed her now, he needed to be needed by her, but he had let her down and she had accepted. River shouldn't just have accepted his aversion of goodbyes; she should have…sooner…

Still, at the same time they had both known that they had been bound to end up needing each other and however cross they had got with each other, very, very cross indeed, they had never doubted their feelings, not once, not while they had lasted. After tonight he still, he simply, no, he couldn't doubt them.

'It's time it stopped', he thought, knowing he was lying to himself.

He had been without her for quite a while now and tonight he had gone mental. Absolutely, entirely mental. It had been an exceptional situation, sure, but that was no excuse, but…but she was his wife and when he had found he could touch her and when they spoke and when she looked up at him… he had been overcome by it again, by _this_, he had needed it, needed _this_, had needed to kiss her. He needed so much more. His vision became blurry and he knew he was crying, he could tell because he struggled for air and also by the way his shoulders shook.

It hit him every time: he would never see her again.

* * *

"It's weird", she said to the laboratory assistant, guiding her new set of hands along her new yet long – and well-known body, "it is weird to be real again".

"Professor Song, you will get used to it in no time, we are sure. The technology which we used to create the flesh has improved immensely and –"

"But I am still controlling it from the data core, am I not? Am I even myself, I wonder."

"Yes and no. We cannot outline the exact details of that as yet, in the future you should always stay near one of our centres so that we can tend to you in the case of an emergency."

This was insanity. She was data pretending to be a real living thing, but had at the same time once been alive and real and…

"How did you even reconstruct this…this body? How did you come by my DNS?"

"We had help. When you were imprisoned, Doctor Song…You must remember that samples of your DNS were taken? We thought your memory was intact, if not, you should inform us now."

"So it is just me. Not the others, not my team", she said and it hurt her, but she was used to loss and…"Life in the data core is not really life, not if you have known what life meant…", she sighed, "How long can this body sustain my mind until it dies?"

She wasn't even going to ask why they had done it, it didn't matter right now. The assistant looked at her with what she hoped was an indifferent expression but River saw what it really was and she expected the words before they were spoken.

"We do not know yet, Professor Song. The reason why you were chosen is your extraordinary DNS, you have genes of a Time Lady and we have no idea whether the consequences for the flesh are…"

"Positive or negative, right."

She would have snapped at the girl but she knew it wasn't her fault. "When will I be allowed to leave?", she asked instead.

"Since the ethics for working with the flesh have changed you are free to go as you please, but do so at your own risk. You are, however, obliged to fill us in on the current status of your body and we have a mechanism of getting this information we will not enlighten you about. We cannot afford science without any results in the end", the young woman shrugged.

"Let me go, then, but one thing first…"

She was so not going to go back into the database, not ever. If this body was going to die she was going to die with it. She could not go back and live a life that wasn't real; she dreaded the mere thought of it. When he had saved her, he had not known her and for most people the data core of this planet could be a splendid place, but not for her, not for eternity. How could anybody bear the thought of everlasting false eternity? She had started to realize and understand this kind of existence, had become disgusted by the fact that they were all just data and she hated her own self for being no longer more than that.

Or rather she just couldn't bear the isolation from the life she had once known.

"Can you access the library from here?" She wanted to take care of it straight away, having a feeling she might run out of time in this body sooner rather than later. The girl looked at her in wonder, but then seemed to understand.

"Right, sorry, you wouldn't know, of course you wouldn't. We are a department of the university that now forms part of this planet. Basically, we are in the library."

'A university', River thought, 'really? What for? Why were they playing Gods with the flesh at a university?'  
"I agree to your terms, you can have whatever information you need from this system, but I want you to delete myself from your computers, no backups. These are _my_ conditions. If you don't agree to them, be assured, I will find my own way of getting what I want. I usually do."

"You are the only person entitled to decide that, Doctor Song", replied the girl with a curious look in her eyes, "but as a scientist I must inform you that it might currently be too much for your body to sustain your whole conscience…Quite a conscience you would have, given your history. Also some patients need assistance to get used to having a body again. However, you might want to think about a step-by-step process. No? Well, there usually is a way to re-upload yourself to the computer, if you happened to regret your choices and are quick enough."

River was not interested in their talking any longer. She was sure she was going to die, she certainly felt like dying and she didn't need to know about her options, it was not like she had never heard of the flesh before. Making no fuzz about things she signed some paperwork, accessed her data and deleted it. She set her mind to getting out of the laboratory and suddenly it hit her: she did not know where to go. There was one place, but would she even be wanted there?

Also, she didn't really fancy to be seen by anyone in scrubs.

Her parents were gone and everyone she knew would be dead by now and who knew if this body would withstand the power of a vortex manipulator or any other sort of time travel. She was going to try, though, she had nothing to lose. Parents dead, team lost, future…future? She had made short work with the data of her beloved team as well, knowing she couldn't save them and not willing to bear the responsibility of not having done anything.

Was she cruel? Yes, maybe she was, but there had been moments when the others, too, had become aware of the kind of existence it was and had wanted to be given peace…Well…The Doctor had not known about life in the data core of the library, because then he wouldn't have done this to any of them, or would he? Always it came back to this question. She had given much thought to this throughout time. But he was such a selfish man sometimes, yet not quite as selfish as River herself.

"Professor Song, is there anybody we could, you know, inform? But first, please come and I will lead you to a room where you can find different clothing. Ah, but we do have a set of clothes corresponding to what you wore in the core when we transferred you, if you like…?"

"Yes."

She didn't actually care what to wear as long as it looked at least decent. Before getting dressed she spent a few minutes simply looking at her bare new body. Having been out of Stormcage for quite a while when she went to the library, her DNS had been from a much earlier point in her life. It looked stronger and it definitely was younger than it felt. While looking at herself, instead of feeling more real she still felt not quite there, heavier and shakier than a few minutes before. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a fear she might still be a ghost. But in comparison to the throbbing in her head that had started right after the deletion – her mind was very likely overcharged – that fear played a minor role. She knew her face could change anytime now and she didn't want to see that, since it would only be the beginning. She got dressed.

Rather than leaving without knowing, she simply had to give it a try.

"Have you ever actually heard of the Doctor? I've last seen him, or not, depends on your perspective… It seems like…like no more than a few hours ago…"

"Oh, now that you mention it professor, we did have complications. Yes, yes there was somebody else accessing your data, but after a few hours… do you actually remember who managed to contact you? A..._the_...doctor you said? We couldn't make out a source; it was as if you had been tapped on from different points and coordinates in time…"

"Oh, I have", she smiled at that, and smiling felt weird, "could I have a look?"

Since she was trembling a little she had to hold on to a table which stood near her. 'Damn it!', this was pitiful. But somehow the pain anchored her.

"This body is getting weaker by the minute, Doctor Song", the woman looked down at some device with a worried look, "I don't want to be rude, but maybe we should try to…if you don't mind… safe your current conscience to our computers again before we do anything else…?"

"No."

"Well, - had to ask. And there is nobody we could…-"

"There might be, and if you finally moved your sweet little bum to show me who the hell dared to rouse me from my perfect virtual prison, you would find out soon enough."

As if. Whatever was going on, why ever she was here now, she was so not going to slip a word more than necessary and God knew she was known to use very little words when it came to the point.

* * *

"Hello old girl, I thought I would never see you again, not really."

She looked at the Tardis who still was the prettiest blue eyes could behold, hoping dearly that she would let her in. When she tried the door she scolded herself for having doubted it, but then again this was a body that had never been here before and her concern had had a reason… Having been insensible and having used the first vortex manipulator she had been able to snitch away, she felt dangerously unstable now, but once she had had coordinates, she did have to try. And there she was, his Tardis…her Tardis.

'What a lucky shot', she thought to herself and shook her head. After all luck wasn't really her area.

"Doctor?", standing in an empty console room she called for him and was not quite satisfied with the hoarse rasp that happened to be her voice.

Keeping quiet for a moment, she noticed how different the Tardis actually looked. Feeling like losing her face now, feeling in fact weaker than any other time she could remember she sighed, because she was also feeling almost at home. Flooded with mixed emotions she wondered whether he would even welcome her.

"You really are a beauty, you know", she murmured sliding her trembling hands along the console just for a second, "but now, if you don't mind, you know who I am here for and I am afraid I might not be conscious much longer. It's dreadful, it's like I'm not really here at all and who knows, maybe I'm not." A door to her right swung open and she entered the room behind it without much hesitation, finally finding him…seeing him.

It had merely been hours, she was sure.

"Doctor, oh…"

He lay on a sofa, and he looked like hell but… but he for a change looked very real, and very knackerd. Had he not managed to rescue Clara, then? Oh, this man, her husband. She chided herself for the tears that welled up and feeling very feeble, she managed to get to the sofa, thinking quietly stupid thoughts about how the room was all in all very cozy. To her great surprise she could feel the cold leather press into her thighs and bum when she sank down. Alas, for the glimpse of a second she felt really there, and then she fell over.

When he awoke, he rarely ever slept but it had been known to happen, he felt miserable. Wondering if he had been dreaming of River's first attempt to kill him or the one time a dinosaur insisted on sitting in his lap, the annoying feeling of legs fallen asleep greeted him. Something was wrong, something important.

When he looked up and down he noticed several things at once. First, there was a mess of golden curls sprawled over his thighs, second the Tardis was in flight and third, there was a whole body attached to the curly hair and then his legs obviously were really asleep because…

"River…", he mouthed, "But we agreed that…", and when he turned her around, still astounded that he could touch her at all, expecting to see her lovely face he saw what she was and gasped in shock.

She looked like a ganger, she was a ganger.

"How can you be! River!", almost angry with her for such foolishness, he lifted her up, thus almost falling over because of his numb and tickling legs.

For a moment he tried to awake them by shaking them one after the other, not knowing what to do at all when suddenly something in his mind clicked in place and he understood why the Tardis had taken off. It was the only thing he could go by, wasn't it? Wouldn't anything else hurt too much; again, wouldn't it mean even more misery and tragedy?

"So you want to save her, of course you do, and you would know, wouldn't you?"

He mumbled this, addressing the Tardis, staggering out of the room. By the time he had carried his wife into the console room her face had become hers again and she wasn't having the looks of a white terrifying wax-like something anymore. Staring at her in infinite amazement he lay her down on the floor as softly as he could, landed the Tardis again and turned to scan River with the sonic, being hesitant because he was afraid she might melt. He wouldn't know what to do if she did, but then again – what was he to do if not? His mind felt fuzzy and he felt hot and anxious and…

She was human, well, at least as human as she used to be.

"You must be so proud", he whispered to the Tardis.

Kneeling down he put his shaky hands onto River's bosom, having to feel for the heartbeats himself – and, as if by magic – there they were. Realizing this and realizing what it meant he collapsed and held her face with even shakier hands and stroked her hair and…

"How? Why? Who?"

He had recognized the clothing, of course he had, and he knew it could hardly be a younger version of her, but he had to be sure, because she looked wondrously youthful. He shrugged off his jacket and tucked it around her, jumped to his feet and searched for the library via his Tardis console, and what he then read caused great astonishment and distress.

Of course they would have chosen River, she was quite a catch. This River – he hated the way that sounded – was now an independent, living and breathing organism, but he had to make sure they would stop experimenting with his wife. He couldn't let any part of her be abused for warfare again, he would have to go and do something about that. Oh, he knew she would laugh at his thoughts if she knew about them, his River, but he had never said he approved of her risky lifestyle – though it did turn him on a bit – and, seriously, he also knew she was no fool and would ultimately agree with him.

He sat down on the stairs to watch over her, occasionally reaching out for the bits of her body which were within range. He became used to her being around again already, even if he shouldn't, but how was he supposed not to hope? She might be fine after all, she might be herself, restored. She might be restored.

Suddenly thinking about Clara he went for a quick check, almost disrupting her well-deserved sleep by crashing a vase, 'why does she even have a vase?', but he came back to River in the nick of time. His jacket rustled and she made a face, seemingly becoming conscious.

"Hello s-", before she could finish he cowered next to her again, putting a thin finger on her lips.

"Shush, shush, say, if anything, say… say it…", and with soft, now-open eyes and a tired, bittersweet smile she reached for his neck, lightly pulled him down so he would hear and whispered it against his lips: his name. It made him shiver, his very inner being responding.

"River, please, how? No! No, don't speak. Are you yourself? How are you?"

"Ahh, it is obvious, isn't it? I was transferred into this body which is made of a substance that the woman there called 'the flesh'. Ever heard of that? Yeah, thought so. As to why, does it really matter now?"

Her voice was throatier than it normally was.

"Of course it does, how am I to…how am I to trust you not…to vanish again? But I did some research and I think the Tardis –"

"Doctor, it was awesome of you to do some research but could you please get me somewhere more comfortable and get me some…food…I haven't had real food in…ages…And I promise you, you will find out as much as I know. Don't you always?"

He snorted lightly at that, she knew damn well he never did.

"So I guess we have done Trenzalore then?", he smirked a little and fiddled with the hem of her cardigan, sensing she would have slapped him for this rude question, but having just been stabilized she was not strong enough.

However, sensing she had a hard time keeping her mien already as it was, he lifted her up in his arms without another word, cherishing the feeling of a warm River Song against his body, and carried her to a room that had once been theirs. There he sat her down on the bed.

Once she had eaten something – the Tardis was, as ever, an angel to her, conjuring up plenty of food – and after she had sipped some water ("Water, River, really, _water_?") she shot him a challenging look, knowing he was the one having questions, also knowing she might, for a change, not have all the answers.

"You don't have to stare at me Doctor, that's just plain rude. Look at you. You're so old and still in need of being taught some manners."

He was sitting on pins and needles, shifting uncomfortably at her words but still couldn't think of a way to retort so he kept quiet, taking the sight of her in. It was not like she really minded and he knew that. She frowned and continued.

"It feels strange, you know, to _be_ again. I was dying, though, this body was dying. How come I am not dead, I was ready to die."

"The Tardis exposed you to her engines, River, to rescue you. I guess you really are the child of a Tardis and now that you are here you should never, ever again dare say anything about being ready to die."

"I have trouble keeping concentrated, though, Doctor. I had a colossal headache which is gone but after all I am not used to a real body anymore. You would think one cannot tell the difference but somehow one can. I can't really put it into words… Do you…Hey."

His hands rubbing circles over the small of her back startled him.

"I'm having none of that tonight, Doctor. You can't really think this is a good time? Stop it right now."

He had taken to gently pulling her cardigan from her shoulders. Was this supposed to comfort her? Was he going to do some kind of medical checkup? If so she would cordially inform him that he was no more of a doctor in that area than she was. Plotting to slap him in the face as hard as she could manage, she remembered the last time she had tried that and froze. Maybe he really wanted to comfort her, maybe he needed comfort himself. She knew he had a thing for the weird, quirky sort of intimacy…and so had she. It was as it should be given the pair of them.

Only a few hours ago they had said farewell forever at Trenzalore but mind, now they were here, in the Tardis, in their bedroom and he was touching her.

She might have restarted to protest for decency's sake were she naturally decent but it wasn't just that; the expression he wore got her sidetracked. He looked so lost, so absentminded. Thinking back in time she also remembered that in the beginning, her beginning, the Doctor had been quite talented at dealing with her. This was this very same Doctor, much more than him actually.

He bore his eyes into hers intensely, shortly, and then bend down to kiss her bare shoulder. When he was reaching for the seam of her top, she turned to him, whispered: "Is this what we're going to do then?", and put out her hand for the buttons of his waistcoat.

She had only come as far as two of them when he interrupted her.

"Let me tend to you first River, for once, just…Please, let me."

Something inside of her broke and shattered, oh how often would she break for this man? Hearing the raw emotion in his voice she bit her lip and let him pull off her top... Not without noticing that he seemed a tiny bit delighted that there was no bra. He kissed her where her hearts beat, yes, she had beating hearts, and then undid the bow of the satin trousers she wore.

"I've never seen you do anything so swiftly, sweetie" she jeered, pretending to try and lighten the mood when she really just welcomed the heaviness of it. It allowed her to feel.

After he had undressed her, after having kissed her feet, knees, hipbones and belly button he hovered over her and searched her eyes again. She leaned in, expecting him – wanting him – to kiss her right on the lips, but he didn't. Instead he took her hands in his and guided them to his waistcoat.

"Oh, I am allowed now", she raised her eyebrows, "you sure were done quickly with me."

His face spasmed while she spoke and she quickly stroked his cheek to make him relax again.

"It may not yet be the right time for my jokes, it seems, sorry, but your wife is one rude thing. Has always been."

First she undid his bowtie, not quite able to believe she happened to hold his bowtie in her hands once more. She hadn't thought she ever would, not after the library, not after Trenzalore. Less clumsy than he was, though today he had done rather well, she undid all the buttons she could find, including the one belonging to his trousers, unzipped them, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pushed all his clothing off his marble white shoulders at once. Then she shoved down his pants and trousers, stopped briefly to take off his shoes and socks, stripping it all off until he, too, was naked. He had always had strong admirable limbs and she guided her fingertips over them ever so lightly while crawling back up to sit next to him. There they were, stark naked, and she had no idea why. It felt special, though: weird and special and at home…welcome, welcome at home.

"How do you feel, River?"

"Tired, dizzy, light-headed and, thanks to you, cold."

"River, damn...argh. You really seem to be safe and sound and yourself. I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do."

"But you did know how to undress me. Otherwise, yes, I seem to be. I'm feeling a bit better, too."

She still wasn't feeling fine, though. He looked at her from under his sparse eyebrows, murmuring: "Somebody said they were cold."

"Yes", she breathed, "yes, somebody did."

"I could try and warm them up, what do you think?"

"You could, in fact you'd better", she whispered and was about to shift closer, wanting to be near him very badly, but he signaled her not to and so, why she did not know, she stopped.

She was aching, her core was aching. She felt bare and vulnerable and she wouldn't be ok with this around anybody else but him. She dreaded begging but tonight this mental to and fro was worse.

"Please, Doctor. You have no idea how –"

"No, River, you are the one having no idea. All those years, when I first met you, you died and I always knew you were going to die and nonetheless you did _this_ to me and I even wanted you to do it. But there was no way I could change anything concerning your death and now you're here, sitting in this bed and for once we both know each other for who we are and I… I am afraid, River. I see you here and you look exactly the same but I am terribly afraid. I will find out what they want you for but even if there was anything wrong, anything wrong with you, I couldn't lose you twice. Don't you ever dare tell me again that I have no idea, because I do, I frigging do."

His voice had become dangerously low and had an extremely disturbing urgent ring to it. Was he about to lose his temper with her even though she had, for once, not done anything to annoy him? None of this was just her fault, he wasn't being fair. He bore his eyes into hers, coming nearer, taking hold of her shoulders, crouching over her and slowly pinning her down. She let him, ready to fight back:

"You'd think I was in prison for five years, wouldn't you, Doctor, but that's wrong. You have imprisoned me much longer. Yeah, I know my death was my choice – not much of a choice, actually – and it wasn't your fault but just imagine me. Imagine me leading a life I knew was false. Would you have done it to me if you had_ really_ known me? Would you still leave me behind like an old mouldly book? I've had a lot of time, years, to spend asking myself this, because you never showed up even though, in the end, you_ knew_ perfectly well who I was, knew what he had. Not a single visit. Every other woman would file for divorce, but when you said you could always hear me and would always listen and could always see me, you broke my hearts. I keep falling in love with you and it is insane and it brings so much pain but tonight you let me know you love me back and that was all I ever needed. It explains it all, it is reason enough for me, so why, why I ask, did you never come?"

With a pained look in his eyes he pressed his front against hers, exhaling slowly. She could taste his breath when he whispered and she could tell he felt as sick as she did.

"You know why better than I do, River. Why does it always need saying? I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Please."

So was she, she was sorry, too. Being sorry was easy. They were both overwhelmed and helpless and had no clue.

"Because, Doctor, you can't just always run away. Some of us deserve more, I deserved more."

For a few moments they held still, he on all fours and hunched over her... she motionlessly beneath him, except for tenderly brushing away a tear of unknown origin, concentrating on the warmth spreading from his face to hers. After so many years of separation they were sharing the same air again, were once more breathing in each other's breath.

After a while she broke the silence, the atmosphere was noticeably shifting and getting quite intense.

"Actually we are getting a little warmer, Doctor", she said, taking heart. "I ask you now to bring me back if you can. To help me be again, help me feel and you'll be forgiven. Bloody hell, you are anyway. You know you're always and completely forgiven. So go ahead, warm me up."

The ghost of his beloved affectionate and kind smile hushed over his face, "and you, Doctor Song, and you", he breathed, but didn't move, seemingly lost in thought, not taking his eyes off of her.

Alas he whispered in her ear: "No worries, Doctor Song, you're grounded anyway" and then he let himself sink down, carefully covering her body with his, burying his face in her hair, sniffing.

"Your scent, unmistakably. They really have improved their technology. I would always recognize your scent."

She folded her arms around him, embraced him, pressed her skin against his and he mirrored her actions, at first very lightly – "Doctor, I think we're past the point of thinking I'm going to break." – then with urgency.

"This feels, my God, it feels so", her voice got stuck in her throat thanks to pleasure washing over her, so she just kept nestling against him, "amazing, fantastic, precious, I know. For me too."

It was the first time in ages that they genuinely smiled at each other, both with tears in their eyes, both unashamed of being seen like this by the other.

"Well then, listen carefully, Professor Song", he made his intellectual face but a sentimental little twinkle in the corner of his eyes gave him away.

"These are your arms, your legs, your hands and feet, this is your belly, your divine bum", he stroked along her sides while talking to her, "this is your face and behind these eyes hides the infinity that is you and with this mouth and what comes out of it you're able to make anyone bananas. I won't even start about your hair, River; nobody has hair like you do. You have lived through regenerations in your life; you know how little a body means to a Time Lord in the end. No matter in which shape you come, you are your mind and soul, you're so much more than just a body."

She had had to close her eyes, taking in his words. He made her feel so special and exceptional, but only when she opened them again to meet his gaze he would continue.

"River, my River, it is natural to you to accustom yourself to a new body, you need to remember this. You have done it before. Now, for all we know you are safe and you are restored… I have to admit, though", he declared in earnest, "I have to admit that I am overjoyed that it is still this body. This is the very face I married."

And then they kissed.

* * *

Part II :-)


	2. Sealed With a Kiss II

They kissed passionately at first, ravishing each other's mouths until their rhythm became slower, sweeter, softer. If they stopped, he would kiss her nose and eyelids and she would tenderly smooth her cheek alongside his to nuzzle his ears and he would chuckle lightly, but eventually they'd start all over again, desperate for each other. Kissing her was beyond all description, he could not fathom words that could possibly describe what the commitment of River Song meant, but he could feel it. Every fibre of his body could feel it.

River, for her part, was brought back down to her own personal heaven on earth with a jolt as long-known desire set her body on fire.  
Kissing him would do _this_ to her. He had kept the movements of his hands quite innocent and gentle, but she was determined to change that. He hadn't intended it; she knew that and neither had she. Well, maybe a tiny part of them had included the possibility of it, but on the whole he, at least, was too much of a gentleman. Well, she certainly wasn't going to hold back now.

She shoved him around until she was above him, straddling his hips. When he caught her gaze he seemed to understand and doubt flickered up behind his eyes but she shook her head and hair seductively, not willing to take any prisoners, knowing he had a weakness for her mane and that it never failed to distract him. He looked at the ceiling for a second, swearing under his breath, knowing he would give in and might as well do so straightaway.

Suddenly, quite ferociously, too, he sat up and pulled her closer, fisting her curls, seizing her breasts.

"Sweetie, what do you think about a nice love bite right here", she mouthed against his throat and before he could stop her – she knew he might have, he liked playing hard to get in order to make her try harder – she bit down and then sucked at his skin.

"River", he growled, lightly slapping her bum just to learn that it made her smile against his sensitive skin.

"You know you like it and so do I, Doctor. Know you like it, I mean. It's embarrassingly obvious."

"Oh, you would know about obvious, Professor Song", he was moaning now because her hand had grabbed his member and she had started to stroke him.

Willing to reciprocate he slid a finger along her folds, drawing circles around her clit.

"It may be obvious", he then growled, "but it has never been embarrassing", when he saw her quirking her eyebrows at that he added: "well, maybe once. But that was unfair; you had way too many advantages."

"Oh don't get sidetracked now, Doctor, shut up and do what you've promised."

"For a first, I didn't promise you this and secondly I would say I have warmed you up already, Doctor Song."

Softly murmuring compliments - even a few naughty ones - he added pressure to her centre just the way he knew she liked, but it wasn't enough. Oh, he did this on purpose.

"That's it, bugger off!", she warned him and he knew what was to come so he jerked up his hips to help her get him where they both wanted each other to be.

It was like their kissing, fierce and almost furious at the beginning but bittersweet and heavy with feeling towards the end.

At some point they slowed down and she allowed him to turn them over again and to hold her wrists above her head, pressing them into the pillow. With a piercing look he gave her all he could, trying to memorize every emotion he could see on her face. When he came, they were used to him coming first – yes, this bit might be perceived as embarrassing, but it wasn't, really, not for her– River's hearts fluttered with love for him.

His features would slacken when the tension vanished, and his eyes always lit up with feelings for her. He looked so young in those moments, young and free, freed for a few heavenly seconds.

Pulling out, rolling off her and coming back to his senses quicker than usual he opened his mouth to apologize. Running out of patience with still increasing want - how did he even do _this_ - she silenced him with the help of another kiss and put his hands where they were needed. He groaned into her mouth, happily obliging. He might be all thumbs, but all of his many thumbs had ten times out of eleven done an amazing job done there and she trusted he wasn't going to let her down tonight.

She kept rocking against his hand and clinging to his body, scratching the skin of his delicate shoulders until she, too, found release. When her orgasm hit her it was one of the best things she had experienced in years. Of course she had lived through good times in the library, she was River Song, but this, this, _this _could only ever happen with him. Sex wasn't just sex with the Doctor, it was a metaphor for so much more. He made her feel, he made her die a hundred times and then he would bring her back and she would feel more alive than ever before. Actually, she did feel _grounded_, still flimsy, still exhausted, but she knew she was there, alive, breathing and feeling.

"Welcome back, Professor River Song... I can hardly believe my luck", he whispered, hugging her closer.

"Here I am", she answered, "thanks for having me."

"Will you stay? I want you to stay."

"For now, yes."

"As long as you come back, River, I'll be waiting. I was waiting for you even when I knew you wouldn't…"

"I know, Doctor, so was I. But we're here now. I am here, I am really here."

They just rested against each other for a while, caressing bits of skin here and there, lightly kissing. She was sleepy and in his arms sleep didn't frighten her. She wasn't going to disintegrate into thin air while he held her, no, she wasn't afraid, she felt save. As to whether she really was safe, that was going to be another story.

"Doctor, I still think there is something you need to know", she murmured lazily, "what I wanted to tell you was that I did erase my files from the library so there will be no more copies but I still think there is some mischief going on. We should take a closer look soon."

"Welcome back, indeed", he beamed in quiet amazement at her, stretching his limbs, "but for now, we're not going anywhere. For once, let us take our time. Clara will be delighted to get to know you."

"She's save then. You did it."

"Yes, yes she is. So are the others, Madame Vastra, Jenny, Strax…all safe but, ah, you've known that already. And you, River, I will keep you safe, too."

"We'll see about that. I had to save your sweet arse quite a few times and, uh-hu, remember where that got us."

"Stop it", he said, burying his nose in her hair again.

She reached out for his prominent chin, drawing him back in sight, smirking.

"Make me", she breathed.

Leaning over with an expression she couldn't read he gave her a sloppy little peck on the cheek before breaking out into a grin so handsome it made her insides clench. She immediately smiled back, still smitten with this _impossible_ man.

"Well...maybe I will."

And then they kissed.

* * *

Review? Thanks for reading!


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